


Hunting Season

by shaded_angel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Older Man/Younger Woman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-08
Updated: 2016-06-08
Packaged: 2018-07-13 21:23:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7137791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shaded_angel/pseuds/shaded_angel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You meet John Winchester and have your first one night stand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hunting Season

The dank little diner you waitressed always made you sweaty, but that didn't bother the handful of old men who were regulars, or the random people off the highway. It's a particularly hot and humid day when he stumbles in. You first though him possibly homeless, a hitchhiker coming in for the crappy bottomless coffee with change he panhandled. He sits near the door, away from the 3pm denizens.  
"Hey. Coffee?" you ask after he's settled. He smells like cigarettes and whiskey.  
"Yeah, and breakfast, everything." His voice is gravelly and not unattractive.  
You lean in to wipe the crumbs from his table and then you smell it, something under the smoke and drink, something raw and it grabs you right between the thighs. Has he seen you waiver? because he looks up at you for the first time.  
"I'll be right back with you drink."  
"Thanks."  
You put his order in with the apathetic cook. A quick look in the greasy mirror behind the counter confirms a slight sheen of sweat on your face and chest, your curls starting to friz under your ponytail. Why do you even care?  
You return with a clean cup and pot of coffee. He watches you with steel blue eyes that you can't read. You pour the coffee and smile nervously.  
"Just passing through?" Did you just squeak?  
"You could say." He gives nothing away. But you feel his eyes on your back as you walk away.  
You refill his mug two more times as he eats alone. You don't even notice him leave, but there is cash on his table for breakfast and a generous tip for you. The humid day goes on as usual.  
"Come on, you need to get out!" Your best friend doesn't let up until you agree, so you give in.  
It's Friday night in the little farming community, and the only place to hang out is a dive bar in town. There is a mix of new and old country music playing loudly, and there are a couple of people playing VLTs in the corner. You and your friend are joined by a few others, people you went to school with. The beer is cheap, but it'scold and the company is good. It takes your mind off a recent breakup. You even dance a few two-steps. By 10pm you are feeling relaxed, if a bit giddy.  
He comes in around eleven. You notice him right away, and that feeling comes back. He Sits alone at the bar sipping whiskey and looking around. He spots you. A slight smile, that could have been a smirk crosses his lips briefly. You give him a goofy grin as your friend twirls you around the dance floor. The song ends ad you make your way back to your table to find the beer bottles empty. The other two girls you are with have gone to the bathroom, and the guys have made their way to the VLTs. Thirsty, you head to the bar to order, there's no waitress here.  
He has a beer for you in his hand. You sit on the stool next to him and take a long pull.  
"Thank you." Are you ever not sweaty?  
He nods and goes back to nursing his whiskey.  
He's showered since you last saw him, hasn't shaved. He has what looks like blood splatter stains on his brown leather jacket, but his jeans and boots are clean. His five o'clock shadow and shaggy dark hair are peppered with silver. He could be in his early to mid forties, but his eyes look old and tired. That underlying musk you smelled earlier is stronger. It's not cologne or even aftershave, it's just him, and you can't get enough of it.  
"Are you here for the fishing?" Aside from farming, there are many great lakes in your area, and it draws visitors from all over, especially in the summer.  
"hunting, actually." He seems to laugh at an inside joke.  
"oh...I wasn't aware there was anything to hunt this time of year."  
He looks you up and down, and you feel like prey. A rough hand grasps your chin, and he pulls your face to his.  
"There's always something, if you're looking." His hot breath on your lips makes you gasp and he moves in for a hard and dirty kiss. It's over before you get to enjoy it. You're not even sure it happened.  
His hand grazes your breast as he takes it from your chin. You put your hand on his knee. He looks down at you and smirks, taking another sip of whiskey. You slide it up a little on his thigh. He puts the empty glass down and takes your hand in his. You're afraid he's rejecting your advances, but he pulls you to his feet, towards the stairs.  
"My room is up here."  
"Yeah." Is all you can manage to get out.  
He leads you into the dusty little room and locks the door behind your back. His hands are on your ass and his lips are on your neck. A little moan escapes your lips as your fingers twirl in his hair. His whiskers tickle you like nothing ever has before, the boyfriend you had in high school was clean and soft. His lips are moving down your collarbone to the top of your tank top. You pull him further down your chest and he grunts. You can feel his erection pressing against you, you grind onto it.  
He lifts you up under the ass cheeks and presses your back against the door. You take off your tank top, revealing a bare chest. He full on takes your left breast into his mouth and rolls your nipple around his tongue. You throw your head back, grabbing his hair roughly. He gives your nipple a hard bite before moving his way to your lips. As his tongue explores your mouth he carries you toward the bed.  
He sits so you are on his lap. You help him shrug off his plaid shirt and white under shirt. His scent is intoxicating, and you can't help but bury your face in his chest. You feel him laugh as he grabs you by the back of your neck and presses his lips to yours.  
"I don't even know your name." You manage to get out.  
"It's John...and what do I call you? Little waitress."  
You give him your name and with one swift move he has you on your back. He undoes your jeans and pulls them off, along with your white cotton panties. He puts a knee between your legs to spread them as his mouth is at your breasts. You arch you back up into his touch and one of his hands makes it's way between your legs.  
"You're so wet for me" He brings his fingers to your mouth.  
You go to undo his pants but one of his big hands grabs both your wrists and holds them above your head. You've never had a lover take such control, and you're beginning to love it. His other hand undoes his jeans and they're kicked off. His free hand finds it's way between your legs again. He slicks his fingers and then glides them over his dick. His dick. You've never seen one so big, granted you've only slept with two people, boys really. This is a man.  
"I'll go gentle on you, I promise." He's noticed your hesitation and his grip loosens a bit on your wrists.  
You do your best to relax and you slide one leg over his hip, edging him on. He grips his cock and slowly slides the head up and down your opening. He drops his head between your ear and shoulder and simply breathes you in. He continues stroking your slit, putting pressure on your clit with each swipe. You wrap you leg a little tighter around him, trying to get him to enter.  
You feel him huff a little laugh into your neck, it sends shivers down your spine and to your core. His grip on your wrists tighten and he slowly enters you. He's stretching you to your limits, awakening an ache for more. He bottoms out and stills for a moment. You open your eyes to see him observing you.  
"I feel you in my stomach."  
"You're so fucking tight."  
You give his cock a squeeze for him to move, to do anything. He stays buried and begins to rock his hips. He's hitting something deep inside you didn't know you had, and the pressure on you clit is almost too much. You're breathing into his shoulder, getting drunk on his scent. You begin to roll your hips to match his. He moans deeply and tightens his grip, moving his other hand to your wrists too.  
You've never came not on top, but damnit you're so close.  
"I feel you baby, make me come too."  
You explode with a loud moan, squeezing around him uncontrollably. His hand tighten painfully around your wrists and he falls silent and still. You feel his cock pumping you full and leaking out. After a moment, he lets go of your hands and lays beside you. He pushes you onto your side and pulls you close with a muscled arm.  
"How old are you anyway?"  
"Eighteen"  
"I have a son your age."  
You're not entirely sure what to do, having never had a one night stand before. His breathing begins to slow and his arm stays around you. You sense he wants you to stay, at least for a bit. You snuggle in close and let him hold you.  
You wake to an empty hotel room. It's nearing dawn. After dressing, you notice a piece of paper left on the kitchenette table.  
I'll see you next hunting season  
John


End file.
